The Antics of Marco Polo in the Thriftway
by Gryffindor'sSlytherinPrincess
Summary: Just a little, okay longish, oneshot based on my Marco-Polo inspired shopping trip...and Why does Edward work at the Thriftway anyways...because this damn author said so! They are all HUMAN so ignore the part in the AN about him being a vampire, 'kay?


A/N: This is my first Twilight fan fiction, so please be _super_ critical please!!!! I'd love some reviews so please!!! Don't be shy!!!!

…**Okay, now just so you know this happened to me the day before yesterday…um, that's the….23****rd**** of December(2007 for those of you reading this a while after I post this). It happened in Publix but for the sake of the story, I'm changing it to the Thriftway. The guy was soooo cute and looked a little like I imagine Jacob but without the deep skin tone…Mmmmmmmm….but not as gorgeous as Edward. Anyways, the story is AU and none of the Cullens have their powers, but they are Vampires. And in this story Jacob doesn't see Bella as anything (!!!) other than a friend.**

**Disclaimer: I unfortunately am one of the masses who do not own(and is greatly disappointed in this fact) Twilight. I could care less, but I do not own Publix or Thriftway...I do own this plot and these highly embarrassing occurrences that inspired said plot.**

So on with the story, read and enjoy.

* * *

Bella's P.O.V.

Grocery shopping could be the bane of my existence sometimes. God only knew why Charlie didn't do it himself, but as it was I managed to get away almost biweekly to the Thriftway, generally with either Jacob Black or Angela so that we can get our shopping done together, and Charlie of course loved any kind of interaction I had with the outside world.

So as I browsed the aisles up and down the store, contemplating next Wednesday's dinner, I looked up from the jar of roasted tomatoes to realize that I had lost Jacob. In fact it seemed I had lost him over twenty minutes ago, when I thought back….laughing, I wondered how I would ever find him in this store, where the shelves were higher than I would ever be. So I did what any average-height women would…

"MARCO!" And as I awaited my reply, I heard the laughs of various shopper; okay of one other shopper, and _maybe_ a employee, but really, how many people do you think can shop at a store in Forks at any given time? Not many.

"Polo," came the voice deep into the story, toward the far left corner. It sounded different though, not like Jacob, but then, who else would answer?

"Marco!"

"Polo!" I was getting closer now, and thought wondrously at the velvety, and not at all like Jacob's, voice, wondering who in their right minds would answer a stranger's, well,_ strange _call.

Marc-OH!" That's when it hit me---literally, IT hit me. Well, more of a HE than an IT…but you get the point.

And Holy Crow, was it a HE. He was beautiful, and even though I'd known him since I was little, granted I hadn't seen him in years; his loveliness still took my breath away. But that was no excuse for the next words that bubbled up, and out, of my mouth:

"You're so not Polo." Oh Gods, _please _not let me have said that. Please, let that have been a hallucination, and extremely stupid, unforgivable, hallucination.

But his laugh was almost _definitely _worth it. I let its euphonious melody swell over me, as he replied in mock haughtiness.

"I most definitely am! I'm just not the one you were expecting." His laugh again, swelled over me, and I honestly had no control over the motions of my mouth.

"Well, then, you are the _wrong Polo_. Happy with my corrections?" His smirk, smug and expected, turned into the crooked smile I remember fro my—err—_damper_ youth.

"Maybe…" that damned smirk was back, and I didn't mind a bit, "but I would be happier with _this_," and he swooped forward, kissed me chastely and leaned away before I could comprehend that he had stopped talking at all.

Damn him, and his absurd swiftness.

"You know," I chastised, "you really shouldn't go about bragging your abilities. You never know who is watching." Glaring pointedly at a point behind him, he turned around with his eyebrow crushed in confusion, to see his manager standing behind him, her stance angry as she took in our scene, and the packages still in their boxes beside us.

"Oh. Well, crap. I've got to go, but-"

"Bella," Jacob shouted, interrupting Edward and causing me to turn away. To quote Edward: Well, Crap.

"Oh, hey Jake, look who I've just run into." Motioning toward Edward, I smiled unconvincingly and hoped that the battle of testosterone to come would take no prisoners.

"Hello," they said, in unison. The irony did not go unnoticed.

"So…well, I've got everything I need, did you get everything? I can wait…"

"No, no, I'm fine; I've got all I need. Are you done _talking_?" Was he just trying to make me blush? Honestly, sometimes, I just want to beat him. With a dull spoon. In the pouring rain. While he wore a dress. _If only…_

"Well, I…uh. We. Yeah. I think we're done." Looking up at Edward, questioning, and he shrugged, and smiled.

"Yes. See you later, Bella, okay?" He smiled that smile again, and I melted, nodding to whatever he said after that, and while I was dragged away by Jacob.

It wasn't until we reached the cashier, that I realized what had conspired in the produce aisle of the Forks, Washington Thriftway.

"Did you find everything you needed, ma'am?" The cashier smiled, and I nodded, and smiled back.

"Yeah. And I played Marco-Polo." Her face changed into a mask of confusion, and badly masked worry; probably for my sanity. Ah, well, you can't please them all.

"Well, um, that's great! Have a good day ma'am. Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, no, no. I've got that giant oaf of a teen-aged boy to enslave into carrying my bags. Thank you though." I laughed, as she snickered and he glared playfully.

"And if I reuse to be 'enslaved'?" I merely looked at him, with my eyebrows raised and smiled smugly at him.

"Then you won't hear all my girlie gossip about Edward and I." He and I both knew I had him, and he groaned as I gestured toward the bags with a flourish.

* * *

"So daddy _lied_ to meet you? Bad daddy!! No more hugs!!!" Ari and Masen squealed as Edward frowned and roughly scooped them up and began to attack them with kisses and tickles.

Arabella was the first to give, laughing and squirming with delight. Masen, however merely laughed and began to launch a defensive attack, that raged into a full out war, as Alice, ever the supportive aunt, jumped in and attempted to hold him down.

Laughing, Ari and I watched as Edward admitted defeat, something I had only recently begun to think possible, and held his hands dejectedly.

"You could have helped me, you know, Bella," he whispered in fake anger, as Alice shepherded our kids into the other room, no doubt to inject them with more sugar and caffeine. I shook my head, no hearing a word he was saying.

"You know, I still can't believe that your sister has my sweet, little Ari drinking coffee at age six! You realize that you've allowed your sister corrupt your only daughter, don't you?" He laughed, and shaking his head he pulled me into his lap, and nuzzled my neck. I turned to face him, and eyed him warily.

"What've you done," I demanded. He met my gazed, unaffected, and stared back with wide, innocent eyes. Much, _much_, too innocent eyes…He was up to something.

"Nothing! Why must I always be accused of such foolery?"

"Because you always must engage in said foolery." His only reply was to scrunch up his nose, as if he smelled something bad, before our rambunctious kids burst back through the entry way.

"Look, Mommy! Lookie, at what auntie Aleece found! It's from daddy!!!" Ari's wide, sparkling jade eyes swirled with excitement, an Alice could be seen twittering about them, humming with her own excitement.

"Hmm…what's this," I held the heart-shaped box aloft as I turned to glare at my still broadly smiling husband. I tore into the paper, and scrunched my forehead at the velvet box before me…

"No! Edward! I told you it was _much _too much!" He laughed as I smacked him, and he pointed to Alice.

"She made me do it!" I glared at him, but couldn't help but smirk at his childishness.

"Well, thanks, but. Well, just thanks. It's lovely Alice; Edward." Masen, distracted pointed out the window, and darted off, Alice and Ari in tow.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. What am I to do with you?"

"Well, Marco, you could star by giving me a kiss?" I pretended to mull it over in thought, before placing my lips on his, and whispering,

"No, Polo, but I might end it like that."

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A/N: Well??? What did you think??? Sorry for any mistakes, I wanted to upload it as soon as I was done, and I didn't want to bother my beta on Christmas Eve, err, or rather Christmas Morning now. So, I was inspired at Publix. What of it? I can't help it if that damned Bartoli Pasta muse decided to stray from her job description!

You know you wanna click that puuuuuuuurty puuuuuuuuuuurple button…and while you're at it read (AND REVIEW!) all my stories!!! The more reviews, and ideas I get, the more (sometimes craptastic) stories you all get!!!

Happy Winter Solstice (which was Saturday, by the way.)!!!

Sexyboxers!!!


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